Love Of The Loved: The Beatles
by mismarymack
Summary: New story: Includes Paul McCartney, John Lennon, Ringo Starr, & George Harrison. Rated M for possible situations in the future.
1. Chapter 1

"Who'd a thought it boy? Lookie over there."

I took a sip of my grape juice.

"I said look not stare."

The accent was indeed different. It didn't sound like it belonged at a London socialite promenade. I turned around to find two men hunched over with glasses of wine looking curiously in my direction. Typical. Party-crashers were to be expected at an event such as this.

"Hello-"

"What do you think you are doing?" I ignored the silly salutation.

They paused and looked at each other confused. One of them spoke, "I'm sorry, are we standing in your way?"

I set down my glass before it spilt, "I'll have you know that this party does not tolerate uninvited guests," I spoke with a hushed, low voice.

"But we are guests."

I looked at the two dressed nicely in their ebony suits, "I- oh. Are you sure?"

My face blushed and they laughed, "We're performing tonight- we're sure."

Sighing, I took my glass, "Right, well, my mistake. Enjoy my birthday party," I walked away, wishing I had an extra hand to cover my mouth when it got ahead of me.

I sought comfort in my circle of friends crowded in the middle of the large room, right around the cake. Suddenly I felt everyone was having fun except me. They hadn't noticed my presence, for talk of me continued, "I couldn't believe she actually called me- like we're friends. But I guess maybe she has no one else." Disappointed by my "friends", I lingered to the back of the stage where musicians were to perform. I hadn't expected to spend my 17th birthday party alone with wires and drum sets. Guitars and basses lay against the walls. Looking around, I saw no one to yell at me, so I took one and pulled the strap up over my head.

"What do you think you are doing?"


	2. Chapter 2

He stood with both hands shoved into his pockets, his head was tilted ever so slightly backwards and to the side- almost like he was probing me with his eyes: it made me feel uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry, I just wanted to look at it."

He walked up to me, "You're doing more than just looking at it."

"I'm sorry, honest," I apologized and disentangled myself from the strap and handed the bass to him. He paused and pursed his lips, "Do you by any chance have an invitation to be back here?"

I looked at him closely. Clearly now, I could see he was one of the gentlemen I had been rude to. I sighed in embarrassment, " I am sorry. It was horrid of me to be that way. I'm embarrassed to say the least."

"Don't apologize," he smiled, "you're the birthday girl after all. How old are you, 15?" He teased.

I smiled, "I sure acted that way, didn't I?"

He sat down on the speaker across from me and nodded, "Perhaps, but you apologized so I'll have to forgive you."

I knew he was joking but I still felt miserable.

"If I let you play my bass will you stop looking dreadfully sorry for yourself?"

I was taken aback, "Pardon? It was not in my intentions to be sorry for myself."

He smiled, "Well I think it is."

"Oh you do?"

"Yeah, I think so."

No one had ever challenged me that way before. I stared at him coldly, and took his bass from his hands. My fingers hesitated as to where they should go.

"Hold on."

He walked up and sat behind me, "This hand goes around the neck," he placed my hand in one spot, "and this hand strums. Loosen your fingers," he took my fingers and placed them softly on the strings, "good, now watch."

He took my free hand in his and strummed the bass. I wasn't paying attention to the bass; I had lost my focus in how small my hand looked in his.

When my fingers came off of the strings, they felt tender. "If you choose to learn, your fingers will get tough and it'll hurt less," his breath tickled my ear and sent a rush down my spine. He stood then and patted his long hair down, "You should go now," he stammered "people are going to start wondering where you are."

I nodded, handed him his bass once more and started to walk away when the young man called me, "Hey wait there, what's your name?"

I smiled, "Jacqueline, why?"

"I need to know who to sing happy birthday to," he smiled nervously too.


	3. Chapter 3

I dashed into the bathroom, and sat myself on the floor. Having not prepared a speech for the party like my mother had demanded I do for weeks, I knew I was in for it. Heat flooded my cheeks, causing cold beads of sweat to run down the sides of my flushed face. I counted the tiles while playing with the extravagant material of my dress.

As I closed my eyes, making an attempt to calm myself down, I could hear a familiar song echoing from the main dining room- a sound running down the hall, reaching me in the bathroom.

I thought I had gone mental. Had my parents and guests really started singing happy birthday? But how? I couldn't believe it and I wouldn't have, but it was happening…. There must have been a mistake, something must've happened but somehow I couldn't makeup an excuse for them.

In my irrational state of panic, I left through the nearest exit.

I didn't know the city very well, and the only thing I knew 100% about my situation was that I looked ridiculous walking on the city sidewalks in my ivory dress with all its bows and lace and such.

The sun had begun to hide behind the buildings, so I knew it was getting quite late. I had no idea where I was nor what I would do if I was caught at night in the city with no place to stay. Despite what my parents had done, I knew they were worried. I began to feel sorry for them- I had no real intention of causing them so much fear.

I walked for hours when I saw someone who looked annoyingly familiar. He was walking into a bar- a little hole in the wall right next to a record parlor. I ran after him, "Wait! Wait!" I fumbled to pickup my dress. He paused with one foot in the door, "The birthday-girl with the beastly attitude," He chuckled lightly, "but soft on the eyes."

I grinned, still embarrassed, "I'm lost."

"Lost?"

"Yes."

"Well, come on then. Let's get things sorted out," He motioned me to the door.


	4. Chapter 4

The club was very dirty, dimly lit, and cloudy with cigarette smoke. The band on the stage seemed to fit the bar perfectly. They all were dressed in leather colored ebony with their shiny locks slicked back in grease.

"Have a seat," He pulled out a chair at the bar beside him and raised two fingers at the bartender.

I shook my head, "No, I don't drink."

His perfectly shaped eyebrows came together as he turned to face me.

"I don't, I'm sorry."

"Remind me to never use public toilets, Paul," a tall lanky boy strutted up beside my new companion and was dressed identically to his pal.

"I tell you all the time but you always insist. Here have her drink."

The boy took the shot glass that was originally meant for me, analyzed it for a while until he finally motioned his head towards me and said, "What's that?"

"A girl, she's a friend."

"Yeah, what kind of friend?"

"Just a friend."

"Well what's her name?"

"Why don't you ask her?" Paul peeked over his shoulder, as he spoke. The boy leaned forward on the gum covered counter to ask me, "What is your name?" He spoke slowly and paused in between words.

I gave a cold glare, "Cheeky."

He sat back into his chair, "Ah, she speaks."

Paul nodded, "Her name is Jacqueline."

"What brings a posh bird like yourself into a crummy bar like this?" The boy probed me the same way Paul had done earlier.

"Paul was just about to help me find my way."

"Way where?"

I hesitated, suddenly feeling very hungry, "I haven't exactly figured that out yet. Home would be good."

Paul was watching my face, "Where exactly is home for you?"

"Old Broad Street."

The boy whistled, "You're a long ways from home."

"How long?" I asked desperately.

"At least an hour by car."

I sighed, "And it's already getting late."

The band's music filled in the conversation's silence. Paul motioned the boy away from the bar to a corner of the club. Even though they were too far away to be heard by me, they kept the backs pointed in my direction, and every now and then one of the two would peek behind them to see if I was still there watching them. Paul suddenly turned around and stared at me with one arm across his chest while his other hand rubbed his chin in skepticism.


	5. Chapter 5

I just wanted to give my readers some definite closure- this story isn't going anywhere- what i mean is, it's done. Im stuck and its not going anywhere. But if any of you would like to take it and continue it/change it, please do! And shoot me a link to the story so I can see it!


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